


Close Only Counts

by ShadowsOffense



Series: The Start Of All Bad Jokes [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bromance, Cultural Differences, Dalish, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsOffense/pseuds/ShadowsOffense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'S dumb, innit?  He kills bloody demons an' nobles bow to him an' no-ones gonna beat him if he goes in the wrong door.  But 's why she has to tell him, innit?  Why someone has to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Only Counts

Wine’s for shit in the Inquisition, makes sense, no grapes, but someone’s clearly got their hands on some decent hops and the beers not too bad, long as you don’t mind the bard who never freakin’ leaves. The tips of Sera’s ears and her cheeks are pleasantly warm, flush from the drink, and at first she thinks her senses are playing tricks on her. But then she realizes, no, someone really is knocking on the door by her table. Which is weird, but it’s probably someone whose arms are full and is hoping for a hand so they don’t have to set everything down. And, yeah, ok, she can do that. 

Sera stands carefully and pulls the door open wide, letting in a bunch of tit freezing cold air.

“May I come in?” 

Polite as you please, pale blond hair and cream brocade shimmering in the lamp light against the white snow, bloody well looking like a bloody Herald of Andraste, is the Herald of Andraste. Until you notice the long, pointed ears, the scars, and the tattoo that’s too purple for a guy that’s not quite a bit bent to not be self-conscious about sporting. Except Sera doesn’t think he is. Bent or self-conscious. 

“What?” She says.

“May I come in?” he says a bit more loudly, and yeah, the bard is still singing, but she heard him the first time.

“Why are you knocking?”

“The door was shut.” 

The way he says door, careful and all to say it right, clues her in. Sera starts laughing because he’s the bleeding Herald and he’s Dalish and he doesn’t know what doors you can open and what ones you can’t without getting beat and so he kills demons and nobles bow to him and then he knocks on tavern doors and waits out in the snow for some drunk to let him in.

And then she stops laughing because she realizes, well, what’s he going to be like when he realizes he doesn’t have to knock? When he learns he can just take what he wants and no one will stop him, because he _is_ the bleeding Herald, Dalish knife ear and all?

“Get in,” Sera says. “Then get back here after you get a drink. You and me need to have a talk about which doors you can just open and which ones you can’t.”


End file.
